Look ahead in the distance

I don't know why I've put this off for so long. I've been waiting to find a punctuation point over what has quickly become the chaos of the last two weeks here in Toronto; I need a moment where I feel like I've achieved enough to be able to comment objectively, or even subjectively, about anything. But everything feels like it keeps looping over itself -days, nights, to-do lists, worries, excitement, change- and I can't get far enough away from my life, disentangled maybe, to be able to write about it.

So here I am. The current scene doesn't appear, to the casual observer, any different from the previous two weeks. My music is playing (softly, because Michael's asleep), I've got a bowl of dry cheerios in front of me (the milk went sour), I've cleaned my room and wrote some emails and made a couple of phone calls and checked for text messages from my boy friend (there were none), and worried a bit about bills and people and other things that are really hard to worry about because you can never really make things right. But the difference tonight, the big difference and the reason why I'm able to sit down and spill my guts, is that I've found my punctuation mark, as it were. I'm coming up for air. Today, I pretty much made the decision to drop out of grad school.

But saying "dropping out" sounds so ugly. It makes it seem as though I've failed somehow, when I truly believe that it was the program that failed me. Okay, maybe it didn't FAIL me, but it certainly didn't live up to my expectations. And honestly, when I give it enough serious thought, I'm not even that emotionally invested in it. Like, it doesn't bother me that I won't be going, don't want to be going. I kind of just feel numb, really.

I tried to explain it to someone tonight by likening it to sexual attraction. When you meet someone with whom you have chemistry, you want to get to know them more. They excite you and intrigue you and make you nervous and you want to get to know them better. Sure, they may turn out to be a horrible match for you, and you end up burning pictures of them over a garbage can, but at least you gave them a chance. At least there was that spark. But with me and grad school, it was like there was no spark at all. As soon as I became a part of the graduate program, I realized that it and I didn't have a future together. There was no attraction, no interest; I was even somewhat repulsed. I think that it might be better for both grad school and I to end things now while we're still able to be amicable, rather than delaying an inevitably messy and expensive divorce down the road. No hard feelings, Drama Centre et al. ... I'm just not that into you. It's not you, it's me. I'm sure you'll make someone very happy one day. I'm also sure that one day I'll be able to love school again - I just need a little bit of time right now to figure out who I am.

Speaking of which (or not, really, but a segue of some sort seemed necessary), have you ever met someone with a defeatist attitude when it comes to relationships? Their attitude is, "every relationship that I will ever have, with the possible exception of one, will end in a break-up" ... so why bother at all, right? I always hated when I was in junior high and high school and would have to field comments from people about my relationships like "you know you're not going to get married, right?" Of course I knew. But eventually, you find the person that you ARE going to get married to, ergo you have to treat each relationship as though it might be the one. I mean, we have no idea, do we.

Just some vague and rambling observations, I guess. I'm trying not to get into the gritty detail of my life in the past few weeks, because it's just as boring as it is complex to me. I moved to Toronto, painted my bedroom, bought a bunch of Ikea furniture, drove a UHaul around for a day with Steve-as-wingman, got organized for school, started school, hated school. I dunno. It all seems so average and uneventful and meaningless. I feel homesick, but I'm not sure what for. Queen's? No - I was ready to leave by the time I was finished, excited to move on to new things. Vancouver? Vancouver isn't really home for me. I dunno. I guess I just want something that makes me feel secure. I act as though I can easily accomodate change, but the truth is that it throws me into a spiral that I struggle to get out of. I like constancy. I like knowing. I like security. I like routine. I don't like feeling scared and lonely, and I dislike writing about it even more.

A couple of days ago while I was organizing my files, I came across a large stack of thank you letters, love letters and friendship letters that I had accumulated over the last 10 years or so - everything from a valentine that I got from a boy in grade 4, to a letter from Alana at the end of university that still puts a lump in my throat to read. Spreading out the cards and letters, looking through old professions of love from boys I had once kissed, christmas cards from junior high friends ... made me feel like if I could somehow wrap up the security and affection from them, I would know how to be happy. I love writing letters, although my letter writing project went a little bit astray. I am reminded of how important it is to tell other people that you appreciate them. My collection is now in a special box, ready to be pulled out any time I feel like no one knows I exist yet in this big city.

It's getting late ... almost two hours after I started (and after various inturruptions). I'm not sure if this is what my entry was supposed to be like, or if I meant to swing it towards sports and shows and concerts and other things that are a little less about me and a little more about my world. But this will have to do. Once I get things figured out, you'll be the first to know. Until then, thanks for listening.

-b